


if they run, they run together

by missveils (Missveils)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: (I love Lily but this is an AU where Jowan tries to run away with Surana and not her), Blood Magic, Circle of Magi, Deaf Character, Demons, Kinloch Hold (Dragon Age), M/M, Mage (Dragon Age) Rights, Sign Language, stanzas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25656139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missveils/pseuds/missveils
Summary: He knows one thing, and it’s this: if they run, they run together.Jowan and Waltz Surana's time in Kinloch hold and how they planned to run away together.
Relationships: Jowan/Male Surana (Dragon Age), Jowan/Surana (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 6





	if they run, they run together

**Author's Note:**

> CW: blood magic-related self-harm

He knows one thing, and it’s this: if they run, they run together. 

i. 

“It is possible to swim across the lake. The Ander did it when he was a child, with no magic to help him.”

Waltz signs back at him: “That sounds like something he would make up.”

“With magic, we could get halfway there and we would only have to swim the last half mile. I will carry you on my back.”

Waltz laughs at that as his expression softens.

Jowan knows he is scared. Every time they hide in the cellar and discuss a possible escape, he can see one hand nervously pulling at his hair and the other clenching over his thigh. 

But he knows one thing, and it’s this: if they run, they run together. 

ii. 

“I will take you to Amaranthine and I will get you one of those cherry pies I told you about. And then we will walk to the beach and drink wine. Good wine, not whatever the templars here drink.”

Jowan kicks the crate they are sitting on and the bottles rattle inside. 

“Have you ever drank good wine?” Waltz signs at him.

“No. But it has to taste better than this, right?” He looks up at the stone ceiling then back at Waltz. “We will look at the stars and swim in the sea, and sleep in the sand. And I will wake up next to you the next morning, and the morning after, and the morning after.”

Waltz’s hand is soft and warm when he places it on his cheek. 

“And maybe we can find your clan. And you can get those tattoos that the wood elves have. You would look very dashing with those.”

Waltz pinches his cheek hard at that. 

iii.

The same nightmare again. One of the templars stands with his arm around Waltz’s shoulders, a fresh brand on his forehead. 

Jowan calls for him. The elf’s hands hang at his sides. 

When Jowan holds them, they twitch, but they lay limp between Jowan’s.

When the tears come to Jowan’s eyes, Waltz just tilts his head trying to understand why he’s crying. 

Red-hot hands rest on Jowan’s shoulders. Lava drips down his arms. 

“Do you wish to protect him?”

“I would do anything.”

“Well,” says the voice rising behind him. “We might just have what you need.”

iv.

He does not tell him. Telling him would be a death sentence. 

It is better this way. 

One night he dreams he himself is turned Tranquil. 

He looks at Waltz and feels nothing. He sees him cry desperately, running his hands over Jowan’s face.

He sees Waltz lift a knife to his own arm. 

He wakes up in cold sweat and climbs into Waltz’s bed. 

In the dark, a sleepy Waltz puts his fingers on Jowan’s lips. And he repeats a word over before he kisses him breathlessly. 

Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow.

v. 

The day comes and they take Waltz away.

The Harrowing, they say. 

And Jowan knows that means two things: 

One: he might die today. A Templar’s sword will be resting on his neck, waiting for any sign of possession. Any twitch, any cry of terror. And it will just so easily slice his throat. 

Two: they might never find Waltz’s phylactery now. Ever. They will always have to be on the run, watching their backs. 

But he knows one thing, and it’s this: if they run, they run together. 

vi. 

They run through the corridors, down the steps. He puts his cloak around Waltz’s shoulders when they reach the Repository. 

His own phylactery smashes on the floor, the blood running through the spaces between the stones. 

So easy. Just like that, he is free. 

Waltz’s breath of relief freezes in the air before him. 

He takes another deep breath. And they run. 

They run out of the Repository, out of the cellars. Into the corridors of the tower. 

Out of the main gates. 

Waltz stops for a second when the night wind hits his face and he feels the grass under his feet. It is enough to slow him down for a moment. 

Jowan hears his alerted scream, as two templars hold him back by his arms. 

The knife is in his hand, the blade through his arm. 

In a moment’s blur, the templars are lying on the floor and Waltz is on his knees, looking at him with wide eyes, streaks of Jowan’s blood over his face. 

More come through the door, hold Waltz again. They hesitate to get closer to him. 

Knight-Commander Greagoir pronounces the sentence: Jowan is to die. 

Waltz is to become Tranquil. 

Jowan clenches a blood-coated fist again, as the Templars approach him. He looks at Waltz and he sees the look he gives him behind the hair falling over his face. And he hears one rasp word that he pushes between his lips. 

“Go.”

He knows one thing, and it’s this: if they run, they run together. 

With his eyes stinging, he uses his magic to push the Templars away from him again. 

And he runs. 

**Author's Note:**

> Waltz Surana belongs to @littlegumshoe on Tumblr


End file.
